Just an Ordinary Day
by Vi Co
Summary: The staff prepares for a visit to Ottawa in the first weeks of Bartlett's presidency. Please review!
1. Start the Show

"Josh, remember to pack warm clothes." Donna breezed through his office for the umpteenth time in as many minutes on another imaginary errand.  
  
Josh grunted. One of the few things he had learned during the campaign was that to ignore Donna was to invoke not only her wrath but also the wrath of all of the other females present. And to answer her with anything understandable was to give her some sort of warped encouragement. A non-committal grunt was the only safe answer.  
  
"And winter boots," she called from her desk.  
  
"Donna, I'm the Deputy Chief of Staff to the most powerful man in the free world. I know how to pack a suitcase." He wasn't going to get any work done if he kept being interrupted.  
  
Donna stood, making her way to the doorway and arranging herself comfortably against the jamb, shrugging as if to say, 'Yeah, sure you do.' There was a moment of silence and Josh turned back to his work, relieved. Then it came, "They speak English, don't they?"  
  
"Donna. It's Canada. What other language would they possibly speak?"  
  
"French, Josh, Canadians speak French." Apparently his reaction to the information appeased her because she flitted back out of his office.  
  
"French?" he called, somewhat incredulous.  
  
"French."  
  
"Well, whose stupid idea was it for them to speak French?"  
  
There was no answer to his question. After a moment of debating with himself over whether or not he really wanted to leap into this fire, he pushed back his chair and walked to the door. "The French." So, maybe she hadn't heard his question after all.  
  
"Right. Whose stupid idea was it for them to speak French?" he repeated happily.  
  
"The French people, the citizens of France, the French."  
  
"Oh." He paused for a moment in thought. "The President doesn't speak French, or at least he hasn't told us if he does."  
  
Donna merely shrugged. "I'm going for lunch, Josh."  
  
He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "Hey, Toby! Do they speak French?"  
  
Toby didn't slow in his brisk stride and didn't show any signs of having heard the question. Josh wasn't concerned and ran to catch up. "Do the Canadians speak French?" he repeated.  
  
"Some of them," Toby sighed. He had hoped that by ignoring Josh that the question would go away.  
  
"Do the ones we're going to be talking to speak French?"  
  
"Most likely." As he spoke, Toby pushed open a door, no easy feat considering the stack of papers in his arms.  
  
Josh followed blindly. "The President doesn't speak French, at least not unless he just hasn't bothered to tell us."  
  
"Although I am a man of many talents, regrettably that is not one of them." Josh's head pivoted towards the speaker.  
  
"Mister President!" He looked around frantically. "I'm sorry. I'll, uh, go now." Josh nearly backed into the wall as he stumbled for the door.  
  
"Now, what was that all about?" Jed stared after Josh, thoroughly confused.  
  
Toby shrugged. "Where's Leo?"  
  
"Here. What's on the agenda with the Canadians?" Even as he spoke, Leo glanced tiredly at his watch. He had been rushing from meeting to meeting all morning in an attempt to tie up all of the loose ends before they left for Ottawa.  
  
"CJ has the schedule." Toby, glancing over at the President, took a seat.  
  
"There's only one schedule?" Leo asked irritably. "Then where the hell is CJ?"  
  
Jed shrugged. "Briefing the press. Isn't that her job?"  
  
Leo sat down opposite Toby. "Where are Sam and Josh?"  
  
Toby gestured helpfully to the hallway. "Not here."  
  
Leo sighed. "Do we at least know what we're going to talk about?"  
  
"Free trade and the way they spell things." Jed frowned at the newspaper in front of him.  
  
"Yes, sir. We're going to tell the Prime Minister that because his country doesn't spell their words right we're going to overthrow the free trade agreement."  
  
"And Josh wants to bring up the French thing. I think."  
  
"What in God's name is the French thing?" Leo stared at Toby as if he had grown another head.  
  
"He didn't know they spoke French."  
  
"And this qualifies as a thing?"  
  
"Apparently."  
  
"Sorry, I'm late. I got lost coming back from lunch." Sam looked more than a little frazzled.  
  
"Sam, we've been here for a week now and you still don't know your way from your office to the mess and back again?"  
  
"No, but I can describe, in minute detail, the route from here to Nova Scotia. Does that count for anything?"  
  
"Sam, in your wanderings did you happen to see Josh?" It was Toby's turn to look pointedly at his watch as he spoke.  
  
"Yeah, I'll go get him."  
  
"No, we'll send someone else after him; I don't want to have to pick you up in Nova Scotia. Plus, we've got to get this gong show started."  
  
"Leo, are you comparing my presidency to a gong show?"  
  
"No, sir, Mister President."  
  
"Okay, I'm here."  
  
"CJ, where's the schedule?" Toby stared at her empty hands in disbelief.  
  
"Don't you have another copy?"  
  
"Apparently this administration is taking a strong stance on environmental issues by refusing to make copies of important documents." Leo glared at them each in turn. "Now, where is the remaining prodigal son?"  
  
"I'll go get him, and the schedule," CJ answered over her shoulder as she walked out the door.  
  
"She'd better not get lost," Leo mumbled, his eyes flickering over to Sam.  
  
Josh came running in the next minute, shaking his watch and holding it up to his ear. "My watch stopped." Then he paused, counting heads. "Where's CJ?"  
  
"She went to go find you, and the schedule," Jed said from behind his desk.  
  
"The schedule? There's only one copy?" Josh looked from face to face. "It's not in French is it?"  
  
Before anyone had the chance to attempt a retort, CJ walked in. "I couldn't find Josh."  
  
"Maybe because I'm already here."  
  
"You have the schedule?" Leo asked, exasperated. CJ nodded and held it out to Leo without another word. The piece of paper slipped from her hand and landed on the floor at Josh's feet. As Josh bent over to pick it up, he knocked over a cup of coffee that had been sitting on nearby table. His white shirt and the precious schedule were drenched in the brown liquid.  
  
Leo gestured to the chairs and couches around him. Catching Jed's eye, he made a small gesture. Jed nodded his agreement. "All of you sit. Now," he barked.  
  
"Here's the schedule, Leo," Josh said apologetically, handing him the soggy, brown paper.  
  
"Merci beaucoup, Josh." Josh stared at Leo, open-mouthed.  
  
Toby decided to have a little fun of his own and trotted out his one trusty French sentence. "Est-ce je peux parler avec un person qui parles l'anglais?"  
  
"Bonjour, je m'appelle Sam. Comment s'appelle tu? Comment ça va? Je suis bien." Sam couldn't resist joining in.  
  
"Since when did we start having meetings in French?" Josh whined.  
  
"Actually, you heard just about the extent of my French." Leo, along with Josh, didn't have the first clue what any of the others had spouted off.  
  
"Me too," Sam added, grinning at his friends and co-workers. "Add me to that list." Toby glanced at his watch again. "What does the schedule, now that we are in possession of the sole existing copy of this most secret document, say?" he asked shortly.  
  
"If you want a copy that badly, just ask one of the reporters if you can borrow their copy for a minute," CJ interjected.  
  
"Let me get this straight. We've given out copies to the press, but we didn't bother to keep a copy for ourselves." Leo stared at CJ, hoping that she wouldn't confirm the lunacy that he had just summarised. "What else do they know that we don't?"  
  
She countered, shrugging, "About the only thing they don't know is what we're going to be talking about. Do we even know what we're going to be talking about?"  
  
"Free trade, rising cost of living, inflation, immigration policies, NORAD, NATO, and genetic engineering on our part," Leo answered, ticking the items off on his fingers as he spoke.  
  
"Why NORAD and NATO?" Sam asked. He hadn't been aware of any issues arising from those two items. But, then again, he usually wasn't involved in matter of national security.  
  
The missile shield." Jed paused for a second before continuing. "My predecessors were working on creating a missile shield, as you know, but now it's almost ready for testing. Canada has been scaling back their commitments to NATO in recent years, and the idea of the shield directly affects our NORAD agreement."  
  
"And any missiles we fire will be flying right over Canadian soil," Sam added, with growing understanding.  
  
"Right," Leo answered. He had been the driving force behind continuing the project. "And it might be hard to convince them. They're still fighting over the last test."  
  
"And they should be."  
  
"Why do you say that, Sam?" Toby asked quietly.  
  
"It's their country. We're shooting highly dangerous weapons over top of it. Why wouldn't they fight about it? Wouldn't you fight about it if the tables were reversed?"  
  
"Is that everything, sir?" Leo asked, cutting of the discussion between Toby and Sam. It was a good debate, and one that needed to happen, but now, in the Oval Office, wasn't the right time or place.  
  
"For us. The Canadians will probably want to discuss a few things with us though. They raised tobacco taxes and want to implement a new gun program. And they're looking at another health care reform. Plus, they can't compete with our proposed farm subsidies," Jed answered, glancing at one of the many sheets of paper on his desk. "Any other questions?  
  
"How often do I have to brief the press?" CJ asked.  
  
"Our press or theirs?"  
  
"I have to brief their press?" she panicked.  
  
"You're briefing their press, and they're briefing ours. But don't worry, they're joint briefings and the Canadian press secretary will be there."  
  
"CJ, relax, you'll do fine." Jed smiled at her. "Now shoo people, I'm sure you're all late for meetings, and I've got a country to run."  
  
"Goodbye, sir," Sam headed for the door.  
  
"And remember to pack warm clothes," Josh added, thinking at the last minute that he sounded very much like Donna.  
  
"Fine, Leo. I agree. My presidency is a gong show." 


	2. On the Road

"Toby, you're going to miss the plane," Ginger called after him as he sprinted down the hall in an attempt to make his one, last, twice- rescheduled meeting.  
  
"No I won't," he called back. "They wouldn't dare leave without me. I write the speeches!" Darting into the room, he checked his watch. Truthfully, if this meeting ran as late as all of his other meetings, he would miss the plane. Not that that would necessarily be a bad thing considering Jed's knack for choosing the most obscure and boring subject and lecturing on it for the entire plane ride.  
  
Ginger threw her hands up in frustration. He had already sent her to his apartment to pack his suitcase with everything that he would need. It had taken her the better part of an hour to sift through his apartment and find his tuxedo crammed into the back of his closet.  
  
She had taken it to a one-hour dry-cleaner in the hopes that they would be able to repair the damage caused by spending so much time crumpled into a ball. Then, she had taken time to find a dress for herself. Toby did owe her one after all. It shouldn't be hard to convince him that she was exactly the girl that he should take as an escort to the formal dinner. She had bumped into Donna, Cathy, Margaret, and CJ all doing the same thing. Perhaps next time, schedules should be handed out a little earlier.  
  
To get Donna out of his hair, Josh sent her back to his apartment to pack his bags. She had reluctantly left, reminding him of an appointment, which, of course, he promptly proceeded to forget about. She cheered up though, when Josh reminded her she might need to pack a formal dress.  
  
CJ had handed all of her briefings over to Henry to go shopping for her own gown. She had a few from her stint in Hollywood, but that was from before. This would be her first big affair as press secretary for the most powerful man in the world and she wanted to dress the part. Plus, none of her suitcases were big enough to hold everything she wanted to take.  
  
Leo, on the other hand, wasn't worried about the party. In fact, he wasn't worried about much of anything. He last two meetings were cancelled and everything was running incredibly smoothly. The meetings he did have ended early; the mess still had some of his favourite lasagna when he wandered down for lunch; and he had a newsmagazine to read on the plane. Actually, he had free time. With an hour to go before he had to go to the airport, he leaned back in his chair, put his feet up on his desk, and tried to catch a few winks in anticipation of Jed's late-night lecture.  
  
Sam was almost ready to tear his hair out by the roots. He was trying to draft a speech that Jed would have to give after the talks wound up. Finally he gave up. He still had five days before the draft would need to be submitted. And Jed hardly ever let anyone sleep on the plane anyway. With nothing more to do until he overcame his writer's block, and his packed bag standing ready at the door, he stretched out on his couch and drifted off into a restless sleep.  
  
"Sam! Where are you? We're so incredibly late!" CJ threw the door to his office open with a bang and turned on the lights.  
  
Sam sat up, blinking wildly. "Did I miss my meeting?"  
  
"No, but we're going to miss the plane." She grabbed his coat and threw it at him. "This your bag?"  
  
"Yeah, but CJ."  
  
"Don't argue. We're late." She struggled to lift the small suitcase. "Ever heard of packing light?"  
  
"Here, I'll take it." Sam took it from her, easily supporting it with one hand. He grinned at her and flexed his other arm as he started down the hall. CJ just stared after him.  
  
"You're going the wrong way."  
  
Outside, Leo leaned against the polished black window of the limousine and watched the two approach. "Where have you been, Sam? You get lost again?"  
  
"No, I was in my office and didn't notice the time." He tried to leave them with the impression that he had been hard at work.  
  
"He didn't notice the time because he was sound asleep," CJ explained, seeing through Sam's little ploy. There was no way that she was going to let him get away with it.  
  
"Well, whenever Josh decides to grace us with his presence, we can leave. That is, if the others haven't already made it to Ottawa." Toby was not a patient man and he had already been there for the better part of half an hour.  
  
"Where's Josh then?"  
  
"Right here. Why are you all so early? The flight doesn't leave for nearly half an hour." Josh looked at his watch to press home his point.  
  
"No, the flight was scheduled to leave two minutes ago." Leo looked even more annoyed as he climbed into the limo. "Your watch really sucks, Josh."  
  
"Hey, Josh, where are your bags?" Sam stood outside, hesitating before following Toby into the car.  
  
"Donna packed them, so they're with her. And she was probably ten minutes early."  
  
"Couldn't we have this conversation inside the car?"  
  
"Sorry, Leo." Sam climbed obediently into the car.  
  
Josh had been right. Donna had been at the airport ten minutes early, complete with Josh's bags, her own bags, and copies of everything in Josh's briefcase. Ginger had been equally as early with Toby's bags and the two waited with everyone else, including Jed, on the plane for the latecomers.  
  
When the car finally arrived, Leo continued to verbally berate them all the way to the plane, just for the fun of it. The only reason he finally stopped was because the press was within earshot.  
  
"So, my friends, you're finally here. Were there any last minute problems?" Jed sounded mildly concerned because he knew it was unlike Leo to be late unless there was a very good reason.  
  
"None. At least not unless you consider a deputy communications director who oversleeps and a deputy chief of staff without a functioning watch problems," Toby caustically replied as he sank into his seat and pulled out a pile of briefing memos he hadn't gotten around to reading.  
  
"Good, I was afraid something really was wrong." Jed leaned back in his seat.  
  
"Now, if no one needs me, I'm going back to sleep." Sam rested his head against the window and closed his eyes.  
  
"Do I have to do anything?" CJ asked, kicking her shoes off and tucking her long legs underneath her.  
  
"Not until right before we land. Then you've got to make sure the press has their papers ready. They probably won't check, but it wouldn't do for us to have part of the White House press corps refused entrance to Canada." Leo suddenly got the feeling that he had forgotten something, but he couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was.  
  
"CJ, relax. The flight isn't very long." Josh looked over at Sam. "Is he asleep already?" he asked incredulously. 


	3. A Canadian Welcome

Josh was right; the flight wasn't very long. It was the circling over the airport waiting for the visibility to clear that took a long time. Even when the airplane finally landed, the drivers were uneasy about leaving in the middle of the storm.  
  
"Why don't we get our luggage and then wait to see what the weather does? Maybe by then it'll have cleared," CJ suggested. She had seen the press scattering and she wanted to stay at least one step ahead of them. It wouldn't do for the press to get there before they did.  
  
"We're already an hour late. Weren't we supposed to have meetings tonight?" Toby was anxious to get back to work.  
  
"The luggage is coming around. I understand the reasoning behind wanting to stay here, but we're going to have a long week ahead of us, starting with the first round of meetings tonight and the formal greeting. We should get out of here, but not if you think it's too dangerous," Leo told the drivers. He really wanted to leave, but he would trust the judgment of the drivers.  
  
"Hey, Sam, there's your bag of bricks." CJ pointed helpfully  
  
"I'll have you know that I didn't pack any bricks, only clothes."  
  
"Josh, grab your bag," Donna interjected before Sam had a chance to get any further.  
  
"That's not my bag," he answered.  
  
"Yes, it is. I packed it remember? Now, grab your bag before its too late."  
  
"I don't own any suitcases that look like that."  
  
"Then why is the name Joshua Lyman engraved on the metal tag?" Josh didn't have an answer, but he grabbed the bag.  
  
"Sam, take those off for me." CJ reached for an overnight bag and a garment bag as two matching suitcases followed close behind.  
  
"Ever heard of packing light?" he quipped as he hauled them off the carousel.  
  
"Leo, looks like you really know how to pack light," Josh commented, looking from the pile of luggage at CJ's feet to the empty space around Leo's.  
  
"I knew I had forgotten something," he replied sheepishly, reaching down to grab as many of Margaret's bags as he could.  
  
"I can take that for you, sir," Ron said as he held out his hand for Jed's suitcase. There were enough other agents around that he could lend a hand.  
  
"I'm fine, but I think the ladies are going to need a hand with their bags, if you can spare them."  
  
"Sir, I'm sure there are porters who can carry our stuff for us. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's what they get paid for." But even as Toby complained, he followed Jed's lead and picked up two of Ginger's bags.  
  
"We'll be fine, Toby. It's only a short walk." Jed started off purposefully, fully laden with bags.  
  
"Uh, sir, it's a short walk in the other direction." Leo shifted his load slightly and started to walk towards the door. Jed turned and followed obediently.  
  
The girls giggled. All of the men were carrying four, or even five bags and were so loaded down they could hardly walk; they had to waddle down the hallway. But not a single one had bothered to leave anything for the women to carry.  
  
Outside the airport, the wind was biting cold and the snow was drifting wildly across the ground. It piled in drifts that were blown away only moments later. Visibility was near zero in exposed areas, but they were still determined to carry on.  
  
"Are you sure we shouldn't just wait here for a while?" CJ pulled the collar of her coat up closer to her face. It had been chilly in Washington, but she simply wasn't dressed for a storm like this.  
  
"We'll be fine. These drivers are experienced.  
  
"But none of us are dressed for warmth." Donna shivered violently.  
  
"Didn't you pack warm clothes?" Josh asked as innocently as he could manage under the circumstances.  
  
"Don't worry, we've got lots of clothes in our suitcases. Or, at least, most of us do." Sam grinned at Leo.  
  
"Besides, visibility is improving. I can see the flag on the control tower now and I couldn't a moment ago," Josh said hopefully as he climbed into the limo. Leo, CJ, and Toby followed close behind. Only Sam hesitated.  
  
"If you're sure." He pulled the door shut firmly behind him.  
  
"Don't worry. Did you find the information about the missile shield?" Leo tightened his seatbelt as the car began to move.  
  
"Yeah, but I still don't like the idea of firing a missile over their country. If I were on the Prim Minister's staff, I would advise him against it. Hell, I'm going to advise the President against it."  
  
"But, did you get the information?" Leo couldn't understand why Sam was so dead set against the idea.  
  
"I got your information, but I got some of my own too." As he spoke, he pulled two thick sheaves of paper out of his briefcase.  
  
"Where do the rest of you stand?" Leo respected all of their opinions, but his own would be next to impossible to sway.  
  
Toby's cell phone rang as he opened his moth to answer. Holding up an index finger, he answered it. "Toby Ziegler."  
  
"Why are you the only one who bothered to have a cell phone turned on?" Jed's voice asked from the other end. "What are you talking about?" He felt left out even though he knew he would hear eventually. As they spoke, the motorcade pulled out onto the highway and began to pick up a little speed.  
  
"The missile shield. Sam's against it, and you know where Leo stands. I'm personally with Leo." The others had fallen silent.  
  
"And the others?" Toby was silent. "Put me on with CJ."  
  
Wordlessly, he held the phone out to CJ. "Mister President?" she guessed.  
  
"Where do you stand?"  
  
"I think we need it. We don't need it as much as we need other things, but we still need it."  
  
"Give the phone to Josh." CJ tossed the phone across to him. "What about you?"  
  
Before Josh had a chance to answer, their limo started to skid. The driver of Jed's limo saw the action and started to turn to avoid them. But the wheels of their vehicle began to slip on another patch of ice that had been covered by the snow. The two limos spun dangerously towards one another. 


	4. Off the Beaten Track

Josh could faintly hear someone, probably Ron, giving Jed instructions from the other end of the phone call. But he wasn't listening. He was too busy worrying about what was going on inside their own car.  
  
It was almost like a grotesque fair ride. The back tires were spinning wildly on the ice, the rear end swinging wide to the right, trying to pass the front, as the driver fought valiantly to regain control. Outside the windows, there was only a swirling blanket of snow. Even if they had been looking, they could no longer have seen the taillights of Jed's car. Behind them, the headlights of the following cars had dwindled down to nothing in the swirling cloud of snow. They were alone in the whiteness that had engulfed the world.  
  
Inside, Leo had braced himself against the corner and was holding tight to the armrest. Toby had done the same in his own corner, pulling his seatbelt tighter in anticipation of the impact.  
  
Opposite Leo and Toby, Josh was still holding the phone to his ear, more through force of habit and shock than through any conscious thought. With his other hand, he gripped his seatbelt. CJ was holding to the door so tightly that her knuckles were as white as her face. Sam, in the centre without anything to hold on to, had thrown a restraining arm across CJ's shoulders in a chivalrous attempt to protect her.  
  
"If we don't swing back, when we hit the ditch we'll roll," Josh whispered beneath his breath. "Come on, swing." For another breathless moment, they continued in their path.  
  
Then, suddenly, they were being pressed in the other direction, as they swung, uncontrolled, to the left. That skid seemed to last just as long as the first, but the third, as they swung back to the right, was noticeably shorter. The driver was slowly regaining control of the vehicle.  
  
They stayed braced in position until the car came to a surprisingly gentle stop. The whirling snow cleared for a moment and they could see the rest of the motorcade scattered across the road as if they were toys abandoned by a child. Two of the escort vehicles had gone into the ditch, but all of the main vehicles had stayed on the road.  
  
After a moment, when the realisation that they were truly stopped had sunk in, they unfroze. CJ started shaking. Toby passed a hand down over his head and face in relief. Josh, still unknowingly clasping the phone, spoke, "Is everyone all right?"  
  
CJ, still pale and trembling, nodded. Toby's nod was terse. Leo motioned he was fine as well. "Sam?"  
  
Sam's face was pale green, but he nodded slowly, swallowing hard. Then, after a moment, he hastily unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door. He scrambled over CJ's knees and out of the car. "I think he's going to be sick," Toby observed dryly.  
  
"What the hell is going on?" Jed asked for the third time. "Is everyone okay?"  
  
"We didn't hit anything," Josh answered, amazed. It didn't seem possibly that not only had they not gone into the ditch, but that they hadn't hit anything or anyone.  
  
Leo grabbed the phone from Josh's hand. "We're all fine, sir. And you?"  
  
"Fine, fine. We didn't slide for nearly as long as you did." There was a pause. Then, Jed asked, "If you're all so perfectly alright, why is Sam out beside your limo sharing his lunch with the road?"  
  
Leo turned his head to peer out the window. Sure enough, Sam was about six feet away from the car, throwing up. "He's a little shaken up. I think we all are." As he spoke, he stripped off his coat, passing it silently to the shaking CJ. She didn't reach out to take it, so Josh did instead, wrapping it securely around her shoulders.  
  
"So, where do we go from here?"  
  
"I don't know. But, this time, we listen to the drivers." 


	5. Back on the Road

There was serious discussion about pulling off to the side of the road and waiting for the storm to clear. But, aside from the one brief break in the swirling blizzard, the weather showed now signs of clearing.  
  
Even Sam, staggering back to the limo, reported weakly that the wind was picking up again. He was covered in a thick layer of snow, but he didn't seem to care at all.  
  
"Let's get something figured out soon. What if someone else decides to drive down this road? There's no way in hell they're going to make it through without hitting something."  
  
"With all due respect, sir," Leo said into the phone, "I think we're about the only ones crazy enough to try driving in this mess." He stared out into the white blanket that had again descended over the convoy. "And even we wouldn't be out here if we had had the sense to listen to our drivers."  
  
"We're listening now and they're not saying much of anything." Then there was a long pause. "Hold on, Leo, I think we've got a decision."  
  
The drivers had braved the snow to discuss the various alternatives near Jed's limo. Apparently they had come to a decision because even as Jed spoke, their own driver was pulling open his door. "We're going to keep going. We're closer to Parliament Hill than we are to the airport or your hotel," the driver told them, brushing the snow off the shoulders of his coat. "But we're not going very fast, especially not over the bridge."  
  
"Bridge?" CJ repeated nervously.  
  
"Yeah, we'll be going over it in about a minute."  
  
The cars started slowly swinging back into line, keeping much more distance between each vehicle than before. They proceeded down the road, just keeping the taillights of the car in front in view, just in case someone spun out again.  
  
CJ, Leo's coat tucked tightly around her shoulders, was still griping the armrest so tightly her knuckles were white. She didn't say a word, but her eyes widened at every correction the car made.  
  
Sam was still pale, but he had regained much of his usual vigour as he sat arguing with Josh, Leo, and Toby. "This is essential to our national security? Leo, we don't have it now. Is our security really in that much danger?"  
  
"It isn't, yet. But what happens when their technology outpaces ours? We've got to stay one step ahead, because if we get behind, even a little bit, we stuck." Leo gazed into the younger man's eyes.  
  
The car had come to a bumpy stop and CJ's eyes were as wide as saucers, but she didn't say anything. "CJ, it's okay. We're here," Josh said, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder.  
  
"We're here," she said, her voice surprisingly calm. Despite what may have been going through her head, her outward demeanour was cool and professional. But, she was the first one out of the car.  
  
The silhouettes of the Parliament buildings were nearly obscured in the blowing snow. Even the bright spot of the Peace Flame was dulled and veiled. "Gee, I hope they're expecting us," Sam said, staring after CJ out into the snow.  
  
"There's only one way to find out," Leo answered, starting up the steps after CJ. Through the snow, they could see other dark figures starting the trek up to the main entrance. There were no signs of welcome, and they had to stumble through drifts of snow just to reach the top terrace.  
  
By that time, they had caught up to CJ, and they waded through the final set of snow drifts together, Jed a few feet off to their right, flanked by Secret Service agents. The snow wasn't as deep up under the covered entrance, but for a moment there was no sign of life.  
  
They stood there for a moment in silence, each person thinking of their own worst case scenario; most of them involved being locked out of the Parliament Buildings. Then, the door swung open a crack and a red head poked out. When she saw there were actually people standing in front of her, she pulled the door open wide. "Come on in; I've been waiting for you."  
  
Gratefully, the staff stood back to allow the Secret Service agents to check the inside. When Ron came back out, saying, "It's clear," only the fact that Jed was the President stopped them from racing in out of the snow. 


End file.
